


it hurts just the same and i can't tear myself away

by boston_sized_city



Category: In Strange Woods (Podcast)
Genre: (kind of), (kind of???), Grief/Mourning, Heavy Angst, Love Confessions, M/M, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:13:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28272924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boston_sized_city/pseuds/boston_sized_city
Summary: -He felt himself starting to black out, his vision worse when he opened his eyes. He lowered the phone, lifting his other hand to hang up. It was shaking too much, and the phone fell just as he did. He fell back against the tree and closing his eyes, wishing death would take him faster.-
Relationships: Eric Fordham/Shane "Woodsley" O'Connor
Comments: 1
Kudos: 5





	it hurts just the same and i can't tear myself away

**Author's Note:**

> I finished this like... The day before episode two came out. I'm sorry.
> 
> Title from The Other Side by Ruelle.
> 
> (CW for injury/descriptions of a dead body/death/grief)

Woodsley didn’t know what was worse; The freezing wind stinging his eyes, or the snow filling his boots and soaking his feet. Maybe, he thought as he leaned against a tree for support, it was the hole in his side. Probably that.

He winced as he moved forward, sitting down against the tree and examining his side. The blood hadn’t stopped, and the edge of his shirt where it had torn stung him when he moved his arm. He’d gotten this far- he was at least a yard away now from where he’d fallen- he could make it just a little further. He just had to get back to the others.

He tried to get up and nearly screamed, overwhelmed by the pain in his stomach. Slumping back, Woodsley fumbled for his phone, smearing more blood on his coat as he wiped off his hand. He turned it on, and wanted to cry when he saw he had service.

Bringing the phone had been a last-minute decision. He and Eric both had, secretly, after Eric admitted he was terrified, and wanted some kind of tether to the town or one of his friends. They both had burner phones in their bags.

The phone screen was blurry in his vision. He swallowed, dialing the number and closing his eyes as he prayed for the call to go through. “Pick up, pick up,  _ please  _ pick up.” His throat hurt and felt numb. Talking was painful. It rang again, and then told him to leave a message. He wanted to cry again, but managed to hold himself together. “Eric-- I-- I need-- I need help--” He tried to keep his voice steady. It wasn’t working. “I-- I’m hurt, and- and stuck, and I don’t think I can move.” Hot tears rolled down his cheeks, and he squeezed his eyes shut tighter. “Please come and-- and find me, I think-- think I’m close to town, I have service-- There’s a big ditch-”   
Woodsley heaved a breath. Talking was becoming more of a struggle. He tried to say something else, but coughed as he felt something else in his throat. Blood splattered the snow. He swallowed. “I don’t think you’re gonna make it,” he managed hoarsely. “Don’t-- don’t think I’m gonna. H-Hey, if you find me, I wanna be buried. And I-- I want you to speak at the funeral. You were always good with words.” He managed a humorless laugh, which quickly turned into a painful coughing fit. It took him a moment to recover, wiping the blood from his lip with his thumb. “I-- I’m going to die here, Eric... I was going to-- to tell you, after we got back?” He couldn’t stop himself from crying audibly anymore. “That... That I’m in-- in love with you. Guess it’s too late now, I just... Wanted you to know. I’m sorry.”

He felt himself starting to black out, his vision worse when he opened his eyes. He lowered the phone, lifting his other hand to hang up. It was shaking too much, and the phone fell just as he did. He lurched forward, coughing violently. His ears rang loudly, and this time as he felt the sharp pain in his stomach, he did scream, falling back against the tree and closing his eyes, wishing death would take him faster.

* * *

_ “I’m sorry.”  _ Static filled Eric’s ear as the voicemail ended. He almost dropped his phone, shaking. The time on the voicemail was only ten minutes before. He still had time, he could still make it, there was a  _ chance. _

He shoved the phone back in the pocket of his bag, and started running, stumbling a little in the snow before he found his footing. The wind pushed back against him, and he pulled his scarf higher over his face.

Eric didn’t know how long it was before he found him. He saw the small figure slumped against a large tree, and ran faster, almost slipping as the path got steeper. He kept upright and made it, dropping into the snow. He wasn’t too late, there was still time, he could--   
His heart dropped when he saw his friend’s face. Woodsley’s eyes were open, dark and glassy. There was dried blood on his chin. His gaze was fixed upwards, his head tilted back against the tree.

He felt a rising lump in his throat. He was too late. Dread rose in his chest when he realized he’d have to tell the others, have to bring him back, but he pushed it down. “I’m sorry,” he managed, his voice choked as he tried to hold in sobs. “I- damn it, I can’t--” He wiped his eyes with his coat sleeve. “I love you, too, I--” The words got caught in his throat. “Why didn’t you call sooner, I... I could have...”    
Woodsley was freezing cold, when Eric touched his hand with his ungloved one. He jerked away in surprise, and tried to swallow more tears. “You’re supposed to laugh at me,” he said quietly, warming his hand in his pocket. “Make fun of me for doing something stupid and hurting myself.” He looked at the ground, biting hard on his lip. “It isn’t fair. It’s not  _ fair,  _ you can’t-- you can’t  _ leave me  _ like this.  _ Please...” _

He reached with the still-gloved hand to hold his friend’s frozen hand. He let out a sob, then curled up in the snow, sobbing into his arm.


End file.
